


Chocolate

by nevergonnaquitit



Series: Twittibal High School AU [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Supernatural
Genre: AU, High School AU, M/M, Slash, human objects, lots of manlove, technically a College AU now, twittibal - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2119287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevergonnaquitit/pseuds/nevergonnaquitit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fact is, stories never really end. Or, Saul Lecter and Baby Winchester do the thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. happiness - simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart

**Author's Note:**

> Saul Lecter belongs to Twitter user @TheLecterSaw  
> Baby Winchester belongs to Twitter user @Actual_Impala67

This was probably one of the least responsible things Saul Lecter had ever done.

Typically, he was all about being responsible, doing the socially correct thing, et cetera. Story of his life.

He had done the right thing and gone to Hanover, New Hampshire. He'd lived in a condo not very far from the dormitory Abigail Hobbs had been staying in. Every month, he'd called home, giving a straightforward, bland report of the status quo to his father and to Wendy, who was attending Harvard. They would relate the news to his brothers, he knew.

He barely even thought of Baby Winchester.

Saul was a good student, dedicated to his studies, involved in multiple student organizations (ones that didn't involve very many social gatherings). He was polite to the students who rented the apartments next to his condo. He enjoyed college.

His life was good.

Truthfully, he only thought of Baby once or twice or eighteen times a day.

Almost two years had passed before Saul finally broke. He drove his fancy Jaguar—and wasn't that amazing, _him_ driving; but he'd learned how to do it after moving to Hanover. One, because he had no one to drive him and two, because driving reminded him of Baby, for some reason—anyway, he drove his fancy Jaguar over several state lines and when he hit Maryland he almost cried. He didn't, of course. He was a _Lecter_. But it was a close call.

The exact moment when he'd broken down and decided to take this random as hell and completely inconvenient trip to his home state was important. He had been making a sandwich in the well-stocked and artfully designed kitchen of his condo when it struck him that he was desperately in love with Baby Winchester.

Somewhere between the artisan lettuce and the farm-raised, organic ham joining together over the freshly baked and sliced deli-style bread, Saul's heart had thrummed at the fact that no one had called him “Saw” in a lazy drawl in two years and if he never heard his name in those specific tones again in his life, he would die of grief.

So here he was, having tracked Baby down to an auto repair shop. It was supposed to be really famous, but it just looked dirty to Saul. He pulled into the driveway and parked, climbing out and pocketing his keys. It never even occurred to him to get out of the way of other potential customers. He was here for one reason and one reason only, and he wasn't leaving here without him.

When he first caught sight of his friend, he was squinting curiously towards Saul, too far away to recognize him. As soon as he _did_ , his face blanched and his hands went slack around the tools he had been clutching. They fell to the concrete floor with a clacking metallic sound. Saul was already striding across the parking lot, and then running, not even hesitating when he reached Baby. He wrapped his arms around the other man—for he was a man now, soldered into one by the fires of painful experience—and just held him for what felt like a small eternity.

Saul's apologies didn't sound, even to himself, like they could encompass the girth of his regret for the past two years. He blamed himself entirely for the ordeal both men had presumably been in.

Kissing Baby was probably the best decision he'd ever made, and was both an apology and a promise.

When Baby asked him if he wanted to “come over and hang out”--an echo of the very first invitation he had ever exchanged with Saul—there was no question in Saul's mind as to what his answer would be.


	2. bitter. sweet. alive.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale.

It was how he found himself, roughly half an hour later, in the tiny living space that was graciously designated an apartment, Baby pulling him in by his tie.

He barely had enough time to take in his new surroundings (a miniscule entryway leading to an equally miniscule living area, a bathroom to the right and a bedroom to the left) before Baby was pushing him against the wall, his thumb pressing to Saul's chin as he kissed him roughly, tongue sweeping over his lower lip.

Saul was already hard. How could he not be? In the couple of years since he'd seen Baby, he had managed to make physical contact with his girlfriend Abi, and had even had sex with her. He hadn't really seen what all the fuss was about. He wondered if sex with Baby would be equally unimpressive.

Somehow, he didn't think so. 

Baby's tongue was rubbing against his, his (startling, Saul secretly thought) blue eyes squeezed shut against the sensations assaulting them. They were pressed so close that Saul could feel Baby's heart beating frantically like a bird trying to escape a house it had accidentally flown into. Saul gave as good as he got; he might not have had as much finesse as Baby, but he made up for it in enthusiasm, repaying Baby's rough, messy kisses with a shove to Baby's shoulders, maneuvering them around without actually parting so that Baby was pressed against the thin apartment wall.

When Saul finally pulled away for air, his head spinning from the lack of oxygen, Baby grabbed hold of his hand and abruptly slipped out from between Saul and the wall, leading them the few steps to the bedroom. “If we're gonna do this,” he was saying, breathless in a way that Saul found strangely intimate, “we're doing it in a bed, like proper human beings.”

“Since when are we proper?” Saul shook his head but obliged Baby, who was already scooting to the center of his bed.

Saul affected a calm demeanor as he worked open his sleeve buttons and then the buttons lining the front of his shirt, removing his shirt and eyeing Baby, who had made no move to do the same, pointedly. He rested one knee on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. “Have you done this before?” The question seemed relevant, given the slight wariness that had entered Baby's eyes.

There was a stubborn set to Baby's jaw, and he finally reached for the hem of his own shirt, yanking it over his head; it made his hair stand straight up for a few seconds. “No. But I know what I'm doing.”

“Do you really? How? Have you studied it?” It was a habit, for Saw, to try to discover everything he could about any given situation, and this was no different. “Also, are you expecting to be on the giving or receiving end of intercourse? Do you have any lubricati--”

Baby's lips were on his again, cutting him off. Even though Saul kissed back, when Baby pulled away he felt a twinge of annoyance. They were  _valid_ questions which he expected answers to.

But Baby laughed when he caught Saul's expression. “Jesus, dude. You haven't changed a bit. Okay.” He was pulling Saul towards him, until he was kneeling over Baby, hands pressing star-like indents into the sheets on either side of Baby's head. “I've watched porn. That's how I know. And I figured I'd let you take the lead since, uh...I've never fucking done this, obviously. Oh, and...” He reached over and slipped his hand under the opposite pillow, pulling out a bottle of lubricant. “For...solo sessions,” he muttered, embarrassed, when Saul tossed him a wry look.

“I've never done this with a man, either,” Saul warned him. But he was already ducking in to press a kiss to Baby's collarbone, eager to touch him after so long being separated. He drug the flat of his tongue against the smooth skin. The other man smelled like the cheap Old Spice he used as after shave. Saul actually hated the smell, because it was so cheap and tacky, and loved it at the same time because it was part of a familiar set of scents he'd come to associate with Baby. These included the faintly acrid smell of oil, which was even stronger now because Baby had just left his place of employment.

Saul wondered, in a distant way, one hand trailing down Baby's chest and eliciting a gasp from him, if Baby would get fired for leaving work early. Wondered if he really cared.

“I-I...never, with anyone,” Baby was confessing in a shamed tone, but there was no hesitation in his hands as they went for Saul's belt, pulling at the thick leather and then working down his zipper. 

There was a part of Saul that wanted to ask  _why—_ Baby was an attractive guy, after all, surely he'd had plenty of opportunity—but he had other, more important things on his mind.

(Later, he  _would_ ask, as they sat across from each other at the unsteady card table in Baby's kitchen.

“Dude, you can't just ask someone that.”

Pointed stare.

“Fine. Before you, I never got the chance, and after...” Baby met his gaze, blushing. “I didn't want it.”)

Baby's nose nudged against Saul's cheek and Saul turned to kiss him, with slow and careful deliberation, taking the lead in a far more gentle attempt than Baby's had been. There was a sweet taste to Baby's mouth, like he'd been eating some kind of candy not long ago—which, knowing Baby and his sweet tooth, was probably true. Saul chased the taste with his tongue, tickling over Baby's soft palate in a way that made him jerk up against Saul with a startled moan, clutching at his hair.

When he pushed his knee between Baby's thighs, putting gentle pressure on his crotch, his friend—was that what they were anymore?--jerked again, and Saul chuckled against his lips.

“Sh-shut up,” Baby muttered and pressed his palm to the front of Saul's pants, and he stopped laughing.

It didn't take them long to get undressed after that, a flurry of limbs, getting in each other's way in their hurry. Baby accidentally elbowed Saul in the nose and he made a pained sound, smacking Baby's head in retaliation, but they were on each other again within seconds, Saul hiking Baby's legs around his waist, Baby sucking at a spot under Saul's chin that made him bite his lip on a groan.

It was with some reluctance that Saul put a little distance between them so he could grab the lubricant, flicking the cap up and drenching his fingers. If there was anything he had learned in his extensive research on this (mostly only out of curiosity), it was that you could never have too much lube. At the first touch of his finger to Baby's entrance, the other man instinctively went rigid, eyes flicking to meet Saul's, very wide.

“Yeah, yeah, I-I know,” he said when Saul paused. “Relax.” He took a deep breath and forced himself to do just that, and Saul took that as permission to slowly work his way in, taking his time so he wouldn't cause undue pain. He'd never been on the receiving end of this—having never had any true interest in it until now—but he'd read that it could be quite painful if rushed.

After inserting a second finger, he leaned down to kiss the tension from Baby's mouth, wrapping his free hand around his erection, enjoying the gasp this forced Baby to release against his lips, the way Baby cursed fervently. 

“That's enough,” Baby growled after a while, but his voice was shaking. “Come on, _fuck_ me.”

Something about the timbre of Baby's voice sent a shock of arousal through Saul; his own erection had flagged somewhat while he'd been preparing Baby but now it was paying full attention again. He coated it with another liberal application of lubricant, gritting his teeth at the touch of his own hand, before pushing at Baby's thighs until his knees almost touched his chest. When he finally pressed the head of his penis to Baby's entrance and started pushing in, both men groaned—one in the shock of pleasure, the other in pain.

But Saul had to admit, Baby took it like a man, uncomplaining at the intrusion; well, he'd requested it, after all. He was grasping the bedsheets, white-knuckled, a muscle working in his jaw. As he bottomed out, Saul pressed one hand to Baby's cheek, stroking over it gently as he went still, waiting for Baby to relax and get more used to the sensation. “It will get better,” Saul assured him in hushed tones like he might use to calm a frightened animal.

“Ah,” was what Baby managed. And then, after a long exhale, “Jesus _fuck_ you're big. Feel like I'm being split open.”

Honestly not sure whether to take this as a compliment or not, Saul just shook his head at Baby's vulgarity and shifted his hips a little, unable to help rocking into the slick, tight heat. Baby's mouth opened in a small, surprised 'o', and he clutched at Saul's arms.

“Okay?” There was sweat beading Saul's brow already, mostly from the strain of holding himself back. He hadn't expected it to feel quite so good. He was making little short, shallow strokes now, moving painfully slow.

He couldn't believe that he was fucking Baby Winchester.

“O-oh, that...” Baby seemed to lose the train of his thought, brow furrowing in concentration, like he wasn't sure if he liked the sensation or not. Saul started to move faster, angling himself a certain way that made Baby's eyes roll up in his head. “Oh _fuck_ ,” and apparently, Baby was the kind of person who can't keep their mouth shut in bed; his ran off a string of curses as Saul rode him, his own hand reaching for his cock and working himself in time with Saul's movement.

Whatever Saul was doing, he must have been doing right, for Baby came before he did, making a mess all over his belly and chest (and Saul's, too, which would have disgusted him if he hadn't been too busy crying out through his own orgasm).

Afterward, he kissed Baby tenderly, brushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead, feeling an overwhelming amount of affection for him. “Come on,” he said, “let's clean up.” Baby looked like he was about to protest, apparently not bothered by lying in their own semen, but Saul wasn't having that. He helped Baby out of bed, watching a little guiltily (and okay, a little smugly, too) as he winced, walking rather bowlegged with Saul to the small bathroom.

They came out of the shower both much the better for it, and Baby threw a clean blanket over the bed, too exhausted to do more before flopping back onto the mattress. He pouted at Saul until he left off neatly brushing his hair and crawled into bed beside Baby, letting himself be pulled into his arms.

He knew that they probably needed to discuss...a  _lot_ of things. Like what they were to each other now. What they were going to do next. How they would break the news to everyone they knew. All of that, and more.

But for now, Saul thought, as he yawned and pulled a blanket over both of them, Baby already half asleep and Saul well on his way behind him, he thought it could wait 'til morning.

** THE END **

 


End file.
